


A Late Mourner

by phrazes



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrazes/pseuds/phrazes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes to Uncle Ben's grave and finds Peter there too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Late Mourner

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU wherein Gwen doesn't exist. Poor Gwen, I'm always giving her the shaft...
> 
> There may be changes made to this, seeing as I wrote this quick and will probably get ideas on how to expand the fic a little more. I'm just too impatient right now to stop myself from publishing what I've got so far. :)

A Late Mourner

Harry didn’t just lose his father. That afternoon on the shore, talking with Peter for the first time in years, he lost Ben Parker too. Peter told him what happened, how Ben’s hands wrapped around the fingers of the robber. Harry’s words caught in his throat and wouldn’t come out.

Ben was more of a father to him than his real one. He helped Harry with his math homework and drove him and Peter to the park, buying them chocolate bars or hot dogs at the end of their walks.

Harry steers his car through the entrance of the graveyard, the wrought-iron archway covered with bare, brittle vines that were waiting to be soft and green again once the summer came.

At the grave, Harry kneels down into the soil – his custom-tailored pants will get dirty but this wasn’t the time to give a damn -- and places a wreath of white roses on the mound. He’s happy to see there’s other small bouquets there, and that the headstone’s gleaming.

He pulls at the grass as he thinks about Uncle Ben and all the ways he made Harry’s childhood better. He was especially grateful for one particular moment that happened when he was twelve.

Out on in the front yard, Peter was helping Aunt May water the plants. The sun was low in the sky, making Peter’s skin golden, making him even more beautiful than usual. His hair was a mess from him and Harry chasing each other up and down the driveway, kicking a soccer ball around, and that’s a beautiful thing about him too. Seated inside by the window, Harry was able to appreciate the sight of him without worrying Peter would look back.

“You’re in love with my ridiculous nephew, aren’t you?” Ben suddenly said, coming out of the dining room.

“What? No. No, I’m not,” Harry said quick, totally mortified.

“Harry, I know that look when I see it. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Is it really okay?”

“For sure. Boys are allowed to be in love with boys. And Peter needs some love – you’re the only friend he has. He doesn’t get along with anybody at his school. You make his days a little better.”

He picked up the latest The Daily Bugle and started reading it. Then he added, “It’s just too bad I’m not letting Peter date anybody until he’s fourteen. But you have permission to ask him out once he is, if you’re still interested at that point.”

Being shipped off to boarding school prevented that, yet at the time, Harry was over the moon about Ben’s approval. He suddenly didn’t feel so weird.

“Thank you. Thank you for being kind to me and letting me into your home,” Harry whispers to Ben, the Ben who’s now resting in the ground. He straightens himself, but isn’t planning on heading out yet. He’s not sure what else you’re supposed to do beside a person’s grave, but he’ll stay.

“Hey, Harry.”

The sudden break in the silence makes Harry gasp. “Jesus Christ,” he says. 

“Yeah, that might be who Uncle Ben’s hangs out with these days,” Peter says with a halfhearted smile. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pea coat and steps beside Harry.

They both stare down at the grave. “He was a good man. You were lucky to have him in your life,” Harry murmurs.

“Definitely.”

Now here they were, the three of them together again. All they needed was Aunt May, and it’d be complete. It was an odd thought, Harry’s notion of what “complete” was since he wasn’t actually part of Peter’s family. It didn’t stop Harry from feeling it was right to have Peter at his side.

“I think about him a lot,” Peter says. “Remember how he let us sleep in the back of truck that one time?”

“Yeah, I do,” Harry says. His knees weaken and his throat’s closing up at the memory of Ben tossing pillows at them, deliberately aiming at their faces. Just the sort of things fathers were supposed to do, and of course, what Harry’s father never did. “So this is what actual grief feels like…” Harry says, breathing in deep.

“Too angry with your dad to be sad?”

“Yeah. With him, I mourn the relationship we didn’t have. It shouldn’t be like that,” Harry explains. “The grief can’t be straightforward for you either.”

Harry’s referring to the events leading to Ben’s death – Peter’s temper, Ben following him, and Peter letting the robber walk out of that store.

“No, it isn’t,” Peter says.

“How do you deal with the guilt?”

Peter’s lips purse together in thought. “I figure out ways to help people. Do some good for the world,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll ever really forgive myself though, so… yeah.”

Harry gives him a sympathetic look and gently presses his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and leaves it there.

“It’s really nice that you’re here, Harry,” Peter says. “With my uncle gone, it’s cut me off from my old life, you know? No more Uncle Ben anymore, but then there’s you – a piece of that old life. It’s comforting. Like… things are falling back into place.”

Peter steps a couple inches closer to Harry until the sides of their jackets brush together.

They go quiet, thinking more about Ben. After a while, Harry feels Peter shaking. His eyes are filling with tears.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Ben. Really, I am,” Peter says through a broken voice. Harry pulls him against his front, letting Peter’s chin rest on his shoulder. He’d tell Peter how it wasn’t his fault – how could it be when Ben made the choice to pick up that gun? – but he’s sure Peter’s heard it all by now.

Feeling it’s time to go, Harry leads Peter to his car. The short walk along the path doesn’t do Peter any good. He’s still gasping for breath and wiping his face.

Harry doesn’t know what he could do. Well, there’s one thing – so he gets close to Peter and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Harry tastes the saltiness of his tears. He hopes what he did was okay, and by the look on Peter’s face – how his eyes stop squeezing shut – it was. It makes perfect sense. After all, Ben told him that Harry made Peter’s days better by loving him, and that’s what he’s been doing.

Peter gently takes his hands. They’re facing each other. Harry presses his forehead against Peter’s, signalling to him that yes, if he needs more from him, he can take it. Harry will need him too. Peter gets it. He places his hands at the back of Harry’s head and presses his lips to his.


End file.
